


Starting the slow healing process

by cedarrapidsgirl



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarrapidsgirl/pseuds/cedarrapidsgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events at Vulcan and in San Francisco, the Enterprise is making her way back to Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting the slow healing process

**Author's Note:**

> A fic from way back inspired by one of my best friends, Jen, when we rewatched Star Trek 2009 together via chat. And there was something along the lines of "all these people are going to need therapy after all this trauma..." and this was one of the events in question. What happens when Spock really gets to talk to Chekov after the loss of Amanda in the transporter room.

Commander Spock could not sleep. He thought for a moment about resuming his previous meditation session, but decided to take a walk. But unlike some people who might roam the ship fighting insomnia in the wee hours of the night with no real destination in mind, Spock knew where he was going.

It did not take Spock long to reach his destination. He paused for a brief moment in the doorway, and then entered the transporter room. Spock had not been back here since he had spoken with his father two days prior. Memories flooded his mind, and Spock had to take a quick deep breath, close his eyes and center himself, putting his hand on the doorframe for support..

When he opened them, he was surprised to find that he was not alone. Sitting in a chair at the transporter console was Ensign Chekov, his hands in his lap, looking down, seemingly lost in thought. As Spock watched, the ensign sat forward and leaned on his elbows on the console, his head in his hands, and sighed deeply. Then he stared out at the transporter pad for a couple of minutes, before speaking. “Commander.”

Spock jumped slightly, but recovered. “Ensign, I had no idea you were here. I will not disturb you, I only wished-”

“No, Commander, I was just leaving.” Chekov rose quickly from the chair and toward Spock and the exit, his eyes down.

Spock moved out of Chekov's way, but spoke. “Mister Chekov, you do not have to leave just because I arrived. There is no logical reason we both can not share our company in the same room for a short while.”

Chekov stopped in the doorway that Spock had just vacated. “I do not think you would want my company, Commander, as I assume your coming here at this late hour has to do with thoughts of your mother.” The ensign had not met Spock's eyes. “And since I am responsible for her death, I am sure you do not wish to speak to me about that matter.”

“You are-” Spock stopped. “responsible for her..death.” In all the chaos that had surrounded the Enterprise and its young crew, and with the loss of Vulcan and his mother, he had not yet had the proper time to process the effects of all that had transpired on the rest of the crew. Of course, no one would expect him to be concerned about others, given the circumstances.

Chekov looked up at Spock for an instant, and then looked away, blinking rapidly. He took some deep breaths, also trying to steady his emotions. “Of course, I am, Commander. I had her coordinates locked into the transporter, and then suddenly, it was off course, and-and she was gone. It's my fault, sir.” Chekov kept his head down, although he after spoke he quickly wiped his eyes on the back of his hand.

Silence hung in the air as Spock attempted to collect his thoughts. “Mister Chekov-” he started. “What happened with my mother was not your fault. You could not calculate in advance that the ground underneath her would give way, thus breaking the transporter lock you had on her. I know that you did the best that you could, Ensign, and I do not blame you for my mother's death in the least.” Spock paused as the upset Chekov finally looked at him, eyes red but standing tall, trying to reign in his emotions. “The way I see it, Mr. Chekov, my mother's death is entirely Nero's doing, as it was his drill and black hole device that caused the destruction of Vulcan.”

Chekov had stood at attention stoically throughout Spock’s last words, and didn’t meet his eyes after he had finished, and another uneasy silence passed between them “Thank you, sir. I-I do appreciate it.” Chekov swallowed hard, then continued. “Especially coming from you, sir. I know you’ve had a lot going on lately.”

“We all have, Ensign.” Spock knew that was the big understatement, but it did not seem right to comment on that at this moment. “Have you had a chance to speak with Doctor McCoy about your feelings?”

Chekov looked back at the floor. “No, sir, not yet. He’s been so busy, with Captain Pike, and all of the physical injuries..” He trailed off. “It’s-It’s just been so crazy around here, I haven’t really had time to process all of this..” He waved his hand at the empty transporter room.

Spock nodded. “Believe me, Ensign. I understand. Probably more than you realize.” He paused for a moment. “I do recommend, Mister Chekov, that you do make an appointment with either Doctor McCoy or another doctor. You shouldn’t keep these feelings inside. They can affect you quite dramatically.”

Chekov looked away nervously and took a deep breath. “I will, sir, but if I may be so bold, to suggest that maybe you should do the same? I mean, it’s not my place or anything, but you’ve been through a lot the last two days as well, and if it can’t be Doctor McCoy, then, well, somebody..” Then he stopped, as if just realizing he’d just given unsolicited and personal advice to a senior officer, which might not go over so well.

Spock was slightly surprised by the Ensign’s straightforwardness, but did not give Chekov any rebuke as he might have done before the week’s events unfolded. Instead he just looked at Pavel Chekov with what maybe could have been fondness, and maybe even a little compassion. “I’ll consider it, Ensign. You are, however, correct.We’ve all been through much duress in the last 2.5 days.” And with that statement, stared off into the distance again, lost in thought.

Pavel Chekov stood in the doorway of the transporter room for another minute, watching Commander Spock. Then he silently slipped out of the room, and made his way to sickbay, hoping that Doctor McCoy wasn’t too busy and could spare a few minutes sometime soon.

Spock heard Chekov leave, but he let the Ensign go without acknowledgement. Even though Spock seemed his normal emotionless self to others, underneath the emotions ran close to the surface. He was after all, half human. And he believed now was the time to honor his recently deceased mother by, for a rare instance, embracing those emotions. With one last look at the transporter pads, Spock took in a deep breath and left the room, and started the slow healing process.


End file.
